


you gave me magical

by helenecixous



Category: Happy Valley (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Kinda, Unrequited Love, don't look at me i wrote this bc im sad and it's starry, idk - Freeform, this started off happy and then, ummmm it's kinda got a happy ending?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-01 22:53:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6539836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helenecixous/pseuds/helenecixous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I won’t be long,” she says. She wants to walk down to the place she’s most familiar with, and she wants to look at the stars and be on her own. She knows that she can do that, she trusts herself to do that, but she knows that Catherine’s scared that she’s going to be found tomorrow morning half conscious with a needle in her arm and crap in her veins. “Really, Catherine, I’ll be back soon. An’ I’ll take me phone.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	you gave me magical

**Author's Note:**

  * For [firelordazulas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firelordazulas/gifts).



“I’m goin’ out,” Clare says. She’s standing in the doorway of the living room, doing up her coat.

Catherine looks up from the telly she hadn’t really been paying attention to, and frowns. “Out? Where?”

“Just down t’ allotment.”

“It’s dark.”

“I know. I jus’ wanna get out.”

Catherine half rises from the settee - “I’ll come with you,” - but Clare shakes her head.

“I won’t be long,” she says. She wants to walk down to the place she’s most familiar with, and she wants to look at the stars and be on her own. She knows that she can do that, she trusts herself to do that, but she knows that Catherine’s scared that she’s going to be found tomorrow morning half conscious with a needle in her arm and crap in her veins. “Really, Catherine, I’ll be back soon. An’ I’ll take me phone.”

Catherine sits back down, and she looks doubtfully up at her sister. “Ring me if you need me,” she says. “An’ let me know when you’re back.”

Clare nods, and smiles. “Thanks, Catherine,” she says, and Catherine nods. She still looks worried, but less so. She knows Clare’s in a better place now, and that she’s not likely to let herself go back to that. Not now.

 

Clare leaves the house, locks the door behind her, shoves her hands into the pockets of her jeans and walks. She walks and walks and walks and she doesn’t really think, she just draws her coat tighter around her frame in a fairly futile attempt to stave off the cold, and lets everything go pleasantly quiet. By the time she gets down to the allotment she can see her breath, and she enters it carefully. She knows the way. She carefully walks down to her patch, almost losing her footing once or twice on the uneven ground, and by the time she’s where she wants to be the only lights she can see are from the houses around the back.

She looks up at the sky and half smiles, pulling her sleeves down and over her hands as she sinks down into the uncomfortable garden chair, and it’s only now that she allows her thoughts to wander with more intent.

She thinks first of Catherine, of how she lost Becky and then Kirsten, and then she thinks of herself, and how she almost lost her sister.

She thinks of Ryan and she thinks of how much she loves him - how much she loves both of them, and she knows that it’s never going to be easy, but God is it worth it.

She thinks of herself, the journey she’s been on. She thinks of how much she hates that word, _journey,_ as though she’s a subject of an experiment, she’s the topic of some shitty self help book about travelling to some quiet corner of the world with mountains and clear streams and _finding your true self._ But she knows that it is, in effect, a journey that she’s been on. That she’s still on. She prefers the term _project,_ but beggars and choosers and all that bollocks. She’s her own project, and she’s allowed to be. Helen taught her that. That she’s worth something, she’s worth recovery. And it wasn’t as though she’d been a particularly bad case - she’d just fallen in with the wrong crowd and one thing had led to another and, well. It was self destructive, towards the end, but it hadn’t started off that way. She’s always thought that that counted for something, even if nobody else did.

Her mind slows and she allows herself to just focus on the stars, and focus on feeling small but necessary. She’s a necessary component in Catherine’s life, in Ryan’s life, in Helen’s-

“Clare?”

She starts, and turns. It’s too dark to immediately make out the features of the person standing next to her, but she’d be able to pick out that voice in a crowd of thousands.

“Helen,” she says, struggling to her feet. She’s never been the most graceful. “What’re you doin’ ‘ere?”

“Catherine said I might find you here,” Helen says, smiling kindly. Her face is lit by the moonlight, and Clare can’t help but smile.

“Well, you found me,” Clare jokes, gesturing in a nondescript kind of way.

“She thought you might like some company,” Helen explains, and she reaches out to rest her hand on Clare’s arm. “I think she’s worried about you.”

“Our Catherine’s always worryin’ about me, when it’s ‘er she should be concerned about.”

Helen nods, but she’s not interested in hearing about Catherine. She squeezes Clare’s arm, and her thumb is grazing over her sleeve slowly. “I just came by to see how you were,” she says. Her voice is soft, but in the dark and the silence it carries, and it wraps itself around Clare so it’s all she can focus on. “And Catherine said you’d come down here. Are you okay?”

“Jus’ wanted some fresh air, some time to- to think. An’ to process.”

Helen nods. Her eyes are kind, and understanding, and Clare thinks she loves her. “I’m glad that you came here,” she says quietly, and she shivers.

Clare notices, and she steps closer, silently offering the woman some warmth, silently testing their boundaries. “Me too,” she agrees, and she takes a long look at Helen’s face while Helen’s looking up at the sky. “I’m glad you told me to start this.”

Helen smiles, and then turns to look at Clare. She reaches up and cups her cheek, and stays silent for a few seconds. “I’m glad you gave me the opportunity to suggest it to you.”

“Helen-” Clare begins, and Helen knows exactly what she’s going to say. “I’ve never had chance to say it before. An’ I never knew how, I know - I’ve seen how many people you help, an’ I know that I was your job - an’ I’m not expectin’ to be more - I jus’ wanted to tell you thank you, an’ how much I appreciate that you never - you never gave up on me. An’ I know you hear it all the time, but I mean it. I really do.”

“I know you do,” Helen says, and now she’s properly shivering. She slips her arm around Clare and they stand closer to each other. “Don’t be silly, Clare, you weren’t my job. You’re a person - a wonderful, wonderful person - who deserved and still does deserve the very best chance.”

“You gave me that chance,” Clare says. She’s desperate to make sure that Helen knows what she feels. “You gave it t’me by never givin’ up on me. An’, an’- you saved me life. You’re not like the others who work at Mission, no one else is even ‘alf as good, and as kind, and-” she breaks off. “Sorry- I’m not so good with words.”

“I’m glad I could help,” Helen says, and Clare knows she means it. “But you could’ve done it all without me. You’re capable of so much. You’re so strong, Clare. You’ve got so much to give.”

Clare nods, she has to nod. Helen taught her how to believe in herself, how to like herself. She has to show her that she’s still alright. “It’s ‘ard,” she whispers, and she doesn’t know why but she’s cracking. It’s like the pressure of the fight that’s taken years and years is finally emerging, the dam’s breaking. She’s had to be strong for Catherine since Catherine lost Becky, but Catherine isn’t here now. “Sometimes it’s really ‘ard.”

Helen smiles sadly, and she rests her forehead against Clare’s. “I know,” she whispers. “But you can do it, I know you can. You’ve been doing _so well.”_

Clare’s not sure when she started crying, but her cheeks are wet with hot tears and she’s clutching Helen’s arms, and she’s sobbing silently. “It ain’t fair.”

Helen knows, of course she knows, and she wraps her arms around Clare and holds her close, her hand on the back of Clare’s neck, rubbing slowly. “I know,” she whispers.

“I loved you,” Clare admits, and her voice is so cracked and broken that she doesn’t recognise it as her own. She hates herself for admitting it - but more so for admitting it now, when it’s far, far too late.

“I know,” Helen repeats, and she presses her lips to Clare’s temple.

Clare squeezes her eyes shut, and it takes her a minute to spit out her next question, and she pulls away just slightly and hurls the words at the other woman. “Why’d you have to die?”

She watches with heartbreaking satisfaction as guilt flashes over Helen’s face before she composes herself. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs.

“I miss you,” Clare continues, but there’s no more anger in her voice. “I need you. I need you.”

Helen pulls Clare back into her arms and rubs her back, shaking her head. “You don’t need me,” she whispers. “You’ve never needed me. You know what to do, and people need _you_ now.” There’s a long pause. “Catherine needs you to be strong for her. And your Ryan… And I need you to be strong for me now, okay?”

“I can’t,” Clare whispers, and she really believes it. “I wish you were ‘ere.” She doesn’t know what to do with herself, doesn’t want to focus too much on the fact that there are no arms around her, that she’s standing alone, and cold in the allotment at midnight. “You didn’t deserve to go like tha’.”

Helen stays quiet. She’s smiling sadly, and her eyes are shining with tears. She’d never told Clare that she loves her. It would have been unfair to Nevison, to Clare, to Ann, to herself. But Clare knew. She saw each small smile from across the room for what they were, she stored and remembered every lingering touch, every soft reassurance, and she’s going to remember them forever.

“I’m not as good as you,” Clare whispers. “I can’t help people like you can.”

Helen’s hand is pressed over Clare’s heart, and she shakes her head. “You have so much to give,” she whispers. “You know that. You just need to remember to save some for yourself, okay?”

Clare nods. Even now, she can’t disagree. She can’t stand to see the disappointment or sadness in Helen’s eyes, not because of her. She’ll try, and she’ll keep trying, even though she knows deep down that she’ll never be able to care so completely, so wholly, so unconditionally. Helen’s left a gap that the world will never, ever be able to fill, and Clare feels like a hole has been blown straight through her.

“I miss you,” she repeats. She wipes her eyes, and looks up at the moon, and she takes deep breaths. She closes her eyes and whispers it again. “I miss you.”

When she opens her eyes, she’s alone. She tries to ignore the way her chest physically hurts, and her phone vibrates in her pocket. She pulls it out, wipes away the gathered tears again, and tries to focus on the message that’s come through.

 

00:38 - Catherine

 

  * __Everything alright? X__



 

 

Clare swallows thickly, and takes her time typing out a response. She can’t quite bring herself to resent her sister’s incessant worrying, can’t quite bring herself to resent much other than the forces that took Helen from her.

 

00:41 - Clare

 

  * __Yeah. Be back in about 20 minutes x__



 

 

00:42 - Catherine

 

  * __Alright. I’ll get the kettle on x__



 

 

As Clare carefully picks her way back up to the road, she looks up at the sky every now and again, and she tries to see it as Helen would. She’ll try to be patient, and to see beauty in things. She’ll try to find potential in ruins, to see hope with a second glance if the first one fails. And she knows that she’ll never quite be able to be as brilliant as Helen, but she’s going to try. Because getting addicted again is so far out of the question, and she can show the world how much Helen Gallagher meant to her by offering the world the same kind of thing that Helen so readily gave her.

 

There are tears still rolling down her cheeks when she gets home, and Catherine’s waiting with two fresh cups of tea. The telly’s off, and when Clare sinks down onto the sofa next to her sister, Catherine pulls her into her arms and they hold each other. No questions are asked, and Clare warms up, drinks her tea, kisses Catherine’s cheek and goes to bed.

 

It’s all she can do now to take one day at a time, and before she goes to sleep each night she opens her curtains and lets the moonlight in, lets it wrap her up and remind her that no darkness is impenetrable. She’ll be here for Catherine as best as she can, and she’ll not let Ryan down. She’ll not let Helen down. She’ll not ever let herself down again.

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry i made meself cry um. i love clare. she deserves so much love.


End file.
